


Tales From The Clinic

by adjectivebear (HealerAriel)



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Friendship, Gen, Vignette, Workplace
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-24
Updated: 2019-03-24
Packaged: 2019-11-29 10:15:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18221765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HealerAriel/pseuds/adjectivebear
Summary: A series of vignettes from the plague years.





	Tales From The Clinic

Chapter 1: In which one (1) overworked doctor takes on an apprentice.

 

 

Julian jolts awake.

No. No no  _no_ , when did he fall asleep? He can’t  _afford_ sleep, not when the city is being ravaged by plague! What sort of doctor is he?

He gazes forlornly at his journal. He’d been using it as a pillow, and the most recent pages are irreparably smudged. What was the last thing he’d written before nodding off? Damn it, he can’t remember! He might have discovered the cure, and now it’s lost forever because he couldn’t stay awake a bit longer. God, isn’t that just like him!

A loud knock interrupts his thoughts.

_A patient._

Julian laughs bitterly, scrubbing at his eyes. Of all the doctors in Vesuvia, this poor soul decided to come to  _him_.

Heaven help them.

“No. Run. Save yourself,” he mutters.

His visitor takes no heed, their knocks growing louder as he makes his way to the front door and flings it open.

A lovely young woman stands on his doorstep, her small fist poised to knock again. Her golden eyes are bright and alert, her complexion rosy, and nothing in her carriage suggests pain.

“Doctor Devorak, I presume?” Her voice is soft and clear, ruling out a number of ailments of the throat.

“At your service, Miss–?”

“Hale,” she says. She sticks out her hand. “Shayara Hale. I’ve come to help.”

Julian blinks.

She frowns slightly, letting the hand drop back to her side. “You’re treating those afflicted by the Red Plague, aren’t you? I want to help.”

“Oh. Ah… yes, I… Yes,” Julian says.

_A job. She wants a job._

Well. He  _hadn’t_ been in the market for an assistant, but it couldn’t hurt to have an extra set of hands around, could it? He belatedly rakes his fingers through his unkempt curls, vaguely aware that he’s in no shape to conduct an interview. “Right, then. Languages spoken?”

“Er… just the one, I’m afraid,” Miss Hale says, her cheeks growing rosier. “Is that going to be a problem?”

It was totally irrelevant, in fact; it had just been the first question to pop into his drowsy mind. Julian opens his mouth to tell her as much, but decides to simply move on. “How many years of medical training have you had, Miss Hale?”

She looks a bit sheepish. “Oh. Well… none, actually. I’m a magician. But I’m quite skilled in potion-making and–”

Julian shakes his head. “I’m sorry, Miss Hale. No offense, of course, I’m sure you’re absolutely marvellous at what you do, but this is a  _medical_ clinic. There’s no place for witchcraft here.”

She grasps his hand before he can close the door.

“ _Please_ ,” she says, staring beseechingly up at him. “Doctor, this is my home. People I love are dying out there. I just… I can’t be useless.”

And whether it’s because Julian knows that feeling all too well, or because of how painfully his heart clenches at the sight of those big, sad eyes, he hears himself saying, “Fine,” before he quite realizes what he’s doing.

“Really?”

_Apparently._

“You’ll be starting small,” he says firmly. “Learning the basics of medicine before I let you anywhere  _near_  anyone infected with plague.”

“Yes, of course, I would expect nothing less. Thank you, Doctor!”

“And I meant what I said. I’ll have none of your hocus pocus in my clinic.”

“You have my word,” Miss Hale says, crossing her heart.

Julian scrubs a hand over his face. “Right. I guess we’ll start your training, then? And I’m… going to need a lot of coffee.”

“Perfect,” Miss Hale says brightly, brushing past him in a rustle of skirts and a cloud of orange blossom perfume. “I make excellent coffee!”

So, he has an apprentice now? Is that what just happened?

Julian closes the door with a sigh and follows after her.

Hopefully she was serious about the coffee.


End file.
